


Claims

by greekowl87



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, MSR, Post-Episode: s06e12 One Son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 01:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13043538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greekowl87/pseuds/greekowl87
Summary: What if Scully kissed Mulder after that confrontational scene at the Lone Gunman's  in 'One Son.' Prompt/ inspired by the rewatch. Could be considered a sequel to my other fic 'Insomnia' but can stand by itself.





	Claims

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own anything, merely borrowing.

Scully remembered the last time she had been up at three a.m. thinking about the past day and the lack of trust that had been brewing between her and Mulder. In fact, she had managed to keep it pushed to the back of her mind for the past few months but tonight. Ugh. Tonight. She remembered the first time she had been up with a bout of insomnia, right after she saw Mulder and that hag Diana Fowley holding hands and smiling, and she knew Mulder no longer only trusted just her. It was always Diana this and Diana that. Was she jealous? Of course. He was. No, Dana. He is your partner. He’s yours, dammit. Except for tonight, she had vodka then. After that little fiasco, she went out and bought a bottle of aged whiskey for nights like this to chase away the demons of mistrust, jealousy, and inadequacy.

Of course, they saved the world. But at what costs.

Rumor had it that she and Mulder were getting the x-files back, which she should be happy she conceded. She had taken a personal day after their late night escapades because she needed to get her mind back together. She needed to refocus.

Scully remembered the confrontation at the Lone Gunman’s liar, the unexpected confrontation she had put herself in.

… .

She tried to be the grown up in the relationship, reaching out to him to reveal her new found knowledge on why he needed to take off his blinders and see the facts.

Scully had drawn a deep breath and tried to keep her voice even. “Special Agent Diana Fowley of the FBI was visiting every European chapter collecting data on female abductees.”

He scoffed. “So she’s collecting data. Big deal.”

“Or hiding it.”

He glared at her, his hazel eyes becoming almost black in defiance. “Scully,” he warned, “you’re reaching.”

The gaps in her memories unfurled like a tsunami and felt momentarily drowning in the anxiety that it brought. She felt the hopelessness of her cancer. She had a stake. Just like him. “Mulder, when I was abducted a chip was put in my neck. When I happened upon a MUFON group filled with women who’d had the same experience.”

Did Mulder just roll his eyes are her? “So you’re suggesting that Diana is monitoring these abductees? Monitoring these tests?”

His lack of seriousness cut the last nerves of patience that she had. That tsunami of anxiety was cooling into new resolve, fortifying her anger as the fiery lava of her fury joined the fray, expanding the island that was keeping them apart. She narrowed her eyes and willed every ounce of authority she possessed.

“You tell me that Cassandra Spender is the critical test subject - the one who could prove everything. And yet, who is watching over her? Mulder, I can prove what you’re saying or I can disprove it but not when Diana Fowley is keeping us from even seeing her. Mulder, ask yourself why there is no information whatsoever on Special Agent Diana Fowley. Why she would suddenly happen into your life when you are closer than ever to the truth. I mean, you… you ask me to trust no one and yet you trust her on simple faith.”

“Because you’ve given me no reason here to do otherwise.”

The gunmen twitched the unfamiliar cold, tense atmosphere as neither dared to speak in the frozen aftermath. Scully was stunned by his sheer lack of obviousness. Did he really just tell her that? That was something she would have expected him to say after six months of being partnered with him, still trying to gain his trust. Not six years, after all, they had been through.

She began to gather her things, averting her eyes.“Well, then I can’t help you anymore.”

“Scully, you’re making this personal.”

She snapped. That was it. That was it. That was fucking it. She threw down her files on the table and grabbed the back of his neck sharply, pressing her manicured nails into his neck and pulled him down into a rough kiss. She kept pressing her nails into his neck, wanting to mark him and break his skin as she had been marked. Fingers that examined remains for the cause of death wanting to make their own y-incision on him to figure why their partnership had died. She was to claim him as hers right before she disappeared from his life. Scully bit his lower lip hard, wanting to inflict pain, so he could feel what he had done to her. Pain and love. Hurt and comfort. Isolation and belonging. Two binaries that could never exist. She broke away, her voice cold and icy. The gunmen looked on, shifting uneasily afraid to be on the receiving end of her anger.

“Because it is personal, Mulder. Because without the FBI personal interest is all that I have. And if you take that away then there is no reason for me to continue.”

She pushed past him into the night.

… .

She needed time to herself. She needed time to think. After El Rico, after she had gotten home, Scully called Skinner quietly requesting a personal day or two, which he gave surprisingly without asking why. Mental health days her mom and Melissa had called them and urged her to take while she was medical school. Mental health days with the aid of whiskey. Scully shivered and brought the fleece blanket up around her, and sipping the whiskey, clicked absently through the late night infomercials.

Was her relationship with Mulder truly dead? If she handed in her resignation, there would be a vacant slot on the x-files and then Fowley could take her place and be done with it. Ex-husband and ex-wife rekindling the files back together again. The thought made Scully almost throw up the whiskey she had been drinking but instead, a bitter and sour vile rose from her stomach and thought. Never before had the thought of someone force such a strong physical reaction within her.

But if she did leave, where would she go? Medicine? Stay with the FBI? Who had a use for a forensic pathologist in the civilian world?Then there was a loud pounding on her door and without a doubt, she already knew who it was.

“Use your key.”

Scully could have left the chain lock undone. She could have been silent. But no. She wanted to fight. The whiskey she had been sipping on was only fanning her wild Irish side and she wanted to settle this, even if it came to fisticuffs. Mulder stormed in and his large presence towered over her but she was not going to be intimidated. She decided to ignore him by continuing to flip through her channels, sip her whiskey, and remain under the fleece blanket.

“What the fuck was that about?”

“What?” she asked, staying focused on the tv.

“This.” He spun around so she could see the back of his neck and the neat little scratches she had raked across the tender skin. He turned around to face her again. “What the hell was all that about in the Gunmen’s liar?”

“Thought I would leave you a little something to remember me by.”

“What do you mean?”

As she started talking, her mind began to settle on the fact the only way to make things right, for him and her, was to leave, even though her heart still screamed otherwise. “I’m planning on turning in my resignation letter to Skinner next Monday. There should be room for another agent and I’d imagine Agent Fowley would be giddy at the chance to work with you again, since you have a preference of partners.”

Her whiskey was gone and she got up, yanking the blanket back, and walked into the kitchen. She poured more whiskey into her glass, and as predicted, Mulder was less than two steps behind her.

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Scully spun around angrily, her blue eyes frosted over. “I think your words were: ‘Scully, you’re making it personal.’ 'Scully, you’re reaching.’ 'Scully, you’ve given me no other reason here to do otherwise.’” She grabbed the glass and threw the whiskey in her face. “Since when am I not deserving of your trust, Mulder? Have I not suffered enough? The missing months? The cancer? My infertility?” His eyes widened in surprise. “What? You think I didn’t know? I learned of it when I learned about my cancer. Haven’t I paid my penance to gain your trust?”

He seethed and wiped the whiskey from his face. “Stop playing the Ice Queen for one moment.”

“Why? So you can ripe what is left of my heart and burn it in front of Diana as an offering?” she snapped.

Mulder trapped her between the counter and him. His hands trapped her wrists and they both knew that she could not break free under his weight and size. Grabbing her right wrist and pushed into the collar of her shirt and she winced at the heat of his smooth skin against her cold hand until her fingertips touched the ridged scar, about the shape of a dime, against his shoulder. He felt her relaxing slightly as her eyes watered.

“I was already marked long ago by my partner,” he said coldly. “My real partner. She saved me and has continued to do so ever since.”

“Mulder…” she croaked.

He grabbed her chin and pulled her into a roughly equal kiss, tugging lightly at her lower lip. She struggled to breathe as he broke away, resting his forehead against hers. She felt like she had been burned, burned alive, with a passion she somehow knew was meant for her and her alone. “Are you going to leave?”

“No,” came the hoarse whisper.

God, she just wanted to take him to her bed and finish the deed.

“Good,” he whispered. He placed a more tender, soothing kiss on her forehead, planting fragile hope and trust that still existed between them that just needed a little time and TLC. “I’ll pick you up Wednesday morning with coffee and donuts. We have our office to redecorate.”

With that, he left and she crossed her arms around herself, bringing the back of her hand to her mouth as she let out a sob. She still had him. She still had him.


End file.
